


The Survivors' Affair

by Lys ap Adin (lysapadin)



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Dark, Gen, khrfest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-25
Updated: 2010-03-25
Packaged: 2017-10-08 07:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/74263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysapadin/pseuds/Lys%20ap%20Adin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yamamoto is really rather zen about life and death in pursuit of his duty. Gokudera, not so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Survivors' Affair

**Author's Note:**

> Teen. For Round III of [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/khrfest/profile)[**khrfest**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/khrfest/), prompt _I-92. Yamamoto – choices; "You never laughed in all your life as I shall laugh in death."_. Dark. Futurefic. 4140 words.

**The Survivors' Affair**

The thing with the Barassi went to hell so fast that it almost made Hayato's head spin. One minute they were all smiling at each other, politely if not cordially, and talking casually about the Barassi's recent interests in the east and the recent uptick in traffic in and out of their territory. The next, the Barassi were pulling guns and snarling and he and Yamamoto were running, ducking and weaving through the restaurant where they'd agreed to meet while the Barassi did their level best to kill them both.

Yes, Hayato concluded grimly, agreeing to meet on the Barassi's turf had been a bad idea. So had the clever, clever plan to push the Barassi for more information about their partners for their new business venture.

"Guess we touched a nerve, huh?" Yamamoto called, obnoxiously cheerful despite the circumstances. Fucker sounded like he was _enjoying_ himself, which just figured.

"I guess you could say that," Hayato grunted as they dodged through a knot of extremely confused and somewhat terrified bystanders and wait staff. If, he thought, they could just get out of this fucking restaurant with its overabundance of back rooms and twisty little corridors and _way too many_ Barassi goons, they'd probably be okay.

"Pity," Yamamoto said as they plunged into the restaurant's front room. "I was enjoying my dinner, too."

"Sure you were," Hayato started to say as he vaulted over a table, and someone came in the front door of the restaurant.

It wasn't just any someone, he realized; it was Giancarlo Ruscitti, the seventh boss of the Ruscitti Family and one of the Vongola's allies. For a split second Hayato was relieved by the sudden unexpected gift of an ally's presence in enemy territory. Then Yamamoto said something unusually profane and Hayato saw that Ruscitti was deep in conversation with Barassi's heir, which, okay, wasn't damning in and of itself, except for the fact that the Ruscitti and the Barassi had hated each other for decades.

Then Ruscitti looked up and saw them. The expression on his face said perfectly well that he recognized them and realized that he'd been recognized in turn. Hayato didn't have the time to think about all the ramifications of his presence here, especially when he could hear the shouts of the Barassi's goons who were coming up behind them, hot on their tails.

"Fuck," Hayato said, which was a succinct summary of the whole thing.

The restaurant had a kind of balcony overlooking the main room; he and Yamamoto barely exchanged glances before dashing for it, hunched over to take as much cover behind the banister of it as they pelted up the stairs and gunfire pocked the plaster in their wake. Hayato overturned a table as he ran past it, which might buy them a little time or it might not, as they wove through the upper level. Yamamoto saw the service door before he did and kicked it open. "You know, this isn't very good," he said as they ran down the corridor behind it. He wasn't exactly smiling any more.

"Yeah, you know what, I think I'd noticed," Hayato retorted. He swore as a pair of Barassi goons appeared ahead of them, like magic.

There was a split second of shock, the moment of surprise and confusion before anyone had the wits to really react. Then Yamamoto's sword was in his hands, called out of its box, and the two goons went down, gurgling, before they could get their shots off. "Service stairs," Yamamoto said and bounded over the bodies.

Hayato followed him and said, "You know, in horror movies, it's never a good idea to go up," when Yamamoto turned left instead of right. Not that they had much of a choice when he could hear people shouting below them.

"Yeah, well," Yamamoto said, taking the stairs three at a time.

The top floor wasn't anything much--flats, by the look of it, judging by the dingy doors ranged down both sides of a single long hallway. "Told you so," Hayato said. He dropped to his knees in front of a likely door, fumbling for his keychain and the lock pick that lived on it. The lock was cheap, which was a damn good thing, because by the time he'd gotten it open, he could hear the feet pounding up the stairwell.

They managed to get inside before any of the Barassi caught up with them, which was a small mercy, and the flat seemed to be empty, which was another. In the hallway outside, someone called for a search of the flats as Yamamoto began dragging an overstuffed armchair over to the door. "That's not going to hold for long," he said, hushed.

Hayato was inspecting the window and the fire escape and texting a quick, urgent message to the Tenth at the same time. "Might be able to get out this way," he said, sizing up the window.

Yamamoto joined him, eyeing the fire escape and the little distance between it and the next building over. "Bet you could jump that and get down through the other building," he said, thoughtfully.

"You're crazy," Hayato told him.

"They're going to have the alley covered," Yamamoto said, as the first thud of someone slamming against the door shook the apartment. "And they're not going to let us get out of here alive now that we know Ruscitti's in bed with them." He slid the window open. "You go first."

"I hate it when you're actually right," Hayato grumbled and swung his leg out the window and onto the fire escape. He studied the space between the two fire escapes carefully, crossed himself, and jumped.

The entire frame of the fire escape shook and groaned as he landed, and Hayato breathed out, shaky with adrenaline, when it steadied.

"Hey," Yamamoto called to him. "Wait a minute." When Hayato looked up, Yamamoto tossed something at him. "Take care of that for me, will you?"

Hayato caught the little object automatically; it was small, round, and heavy in his palm. "What the--" he said, and looked at it; it was Yamamoto's ring.

When he looked up, Yamamoto was sliding the window closed again, on the wrong fucking side of it. When he caught Hayato looking, he waved. He mouthed words at Hayato, _go ahead_ and _it's fine_, smiling all the while, like he didn't even know what it was that he was choosing.

Then Yamamoto turned away from the window, as Hayato's cell phone buzzed in his pocket--probably the Tenth wanting more information, maybe saying that there was help on the way.

It wouldn't show up in time, even if it were.

"You stupid bastard," Hayato said as he shoved Yamamoto's ring into his pocket. He took the opening that Yamamoto had made for him and ran.

   
 

Tsuna accepted the Yamamoto's ring from Hayato with a still, terrible look on his face and sat looking at it silently for a long time before he showed any other reaction. It hurt to look at him, but Hayato gritted his teeth and forced himself to endure it, because this was what Yamamoto's life had purchased and he wasn't going to shirk that.

"I should not have sent you to the Barassi," Tsuna said, slowly, when he raised his eyes from Yamamoto's ring. "Not on their terms."

"We knew what the risks were going in, Tenth," Hayato said. Had known them and decided they weren't significant. "We were both willing to go."

Tsuna's fingers curled into a fist around Yamamoto's ring. "Nevertheless."

"It was Ruscitti," Hayato said. "If we hadn't run into him, the Barassi would have let us go." It had been a mostly pro forma chase until Giancarlo fucking Ruscitti had shown up.

Tsuna's mouth flattened even more. "Ruscitti," he said. Even though Hayato knew perfectly well that the sudden chill in the Tenth's voice was for the betrayal of an ally, it still made his spine crinkle to hear. "I had thought better of them than this."

"The rumors about their debts must be true," Hayato said.

"So they must." Tsuna drew a breath and let it out slowly. "Call a meeting," he said. "I want everyone in. There are things we have to think about now. Call me when they're ready."

"Yes, Tenth," Hayato said, because there was nothing else he _could_ say to that. He still hesitated, trying to think of something that he could say to ease the look on Tsuna's face, but came up with nothing. In the end he simply bowed his head and slipped out of the office.

Hibari was leaning against the wall opposite the door when Hayato closed it behind him. "You came back alone," he said without preamble. His eyes passed over Hayato, quick and cool, sizing him up.

"Yes," Hayato said, because there wasn't any denying it. "The Tenth wants a meeting." He met Hibari's gaze as steadily as he could. "The Ruscitti are working with the Barassi, and Yamamoto is probably dead." Saying it for the second time wasn't any easier than the first had been.

Hibari's expression didn't change. "You saw the body?"

"...no," Hayato told him. "But I saw the numbers. And the guns."

"I see," Hibari said. That was apparently the end of the conversation. He pushed away from the wall and walked away without another word.

Hayato took a deep breath, then another. He reminded himself strenuously that Hibari was crazy even by Vongola standards, and continued on his rounds.

The others were easy to find, even Chrome; Hayato wasn't surprised. There was a current of something hanging over the entire building, shock or maybe just disbelief, and the five of them and Irie assembled around the large conference table in the meeting room adjacent to the Tenth's office in short order. Lambo kept sneaking glances at the seat that Yamamoto usually occupied and Hibari presided over the foot of the table with his arms folded and his expression even more forbidding than usual.

When the Tenth came in, he stopped inside the doorway and stood there looking at them silently for several long seconds. When he finally came away from the door, he made a circuit of the table, touching each of them in passing like he wanted to reassure himself that they were all there. He ruffled Lambo's hair and gripped Ryouhei's shoulder, laid a hand against Hibari's sleeve and then clasped Chrome's hand before he finally came around to the seat that was his, between Irie's and Hayato's, where he dropped a hand on Hayato's shoulder and left it there. "You know why we're here," he said, finally.

"What do you want us to do, Boss?" Lambo asked. His eyes were red, though everyone was being careful not to notice that or the way he had to sniff occasionally.

"I sent word over to the Varia," Hayato said. "Just in case."

"The Varia," Tsuna repeated. His tone was distant. "No, not the Varia. This is rather more personal than that."

They all stirred at that, exchanging glances. It was Irie who spoke up first, like a good outside advisor ought. "What are you thinking?" he asked, quietly. "An all-out war? That seems a little disproportionate."

"One of our allies has been doing business behind our back," Tsuna said, with the sort of calm that only came when he was in the grip of his Will. "And they have killed my Rain."

"You don't know that," Hibari said, frowning.

"_Yamamoto_ didn't think he was getting out alive," Hayato said, hearing his own voice as if it were coming from a long way away. "He sent his ring back with me."

The rest of them stirred again at that, and Tsuna's hand tightened on Hayato's shoulder. Hibari stayed motionless through the rustling and muttering, eyes fixed on Hayato. "I would," he said, at length, "like to know what, precisely, happened."

Tsuna's hand on his shoulder tightened again. "Hayato," he said, quietly. "If you don't mind?"

Hayato would have liked to have known how he could say no. "Of course not," he said, and told the story again from start to finish instead of the little piecemeal bits that he'd shared as he'd made his rounds to gather everyone together. Hibari's eyes never left his face as he did, until Hayato came to the end, and said, "And then I returned to the Vongola and made my report."

"It seems likely that Yamamoto would not have survived that," Chrome said, into the silence that fell after Hayato had finished.

"Mm," Hibari said, and that was all.

Irie broke the silence again. "Still," he said. "I'm not sure that a full-scale retaliation is the best response."

"They killed Yamamoto," Lambo said, voice quavering just a bit. "What are we supposed to do, sit back and _take it_? The other Families will be taking potshots at the rest of us inside a week!"

"Of course we should respond," Irie said. Hayato was grateful, and not for the first time, that he didn't have Irie's job. "But we have to be reasonable about it."

"What's reasonable when one of your Family is dead?" Chrome asked. The question was all the sharper for how soft her voice was.

The wrangling went on for a while after that, mostly between Lambo, Irie, and Chrome, while Hibari presided over his end of the table in flinty silence and Ryouhei wavered between the two camps, weighing in first with Lambo and Chrome and then, increasingly, with Irie. They appealed to Hayato only once, twenty minutes or so into the debate, when Lambo demanded, "What do _you_ think, Gokudera?"

"I'll do whatever the Tenth asks me to do," Hayato told him, because there was nothing else he _could_ do, weighed down as he was with the cost of Yamamoto's life.

So they left him out of it after that. It wasn't until Tsuna said, "_Enough_," after forty-five minutes of their arguing that they shut up.

"Yes, Boss?" Irie ventured, when they'd taken a moment to resettle themselves.

"If not an all-out war, then what _would_ be the appropriate level of response?" Tsuna asked, heavily, with a dark, bitter edge of irony to it that Hayato didn't like to hear from him at all.

Irie didn't seem to like it, either; he winced, but said, calmly, "We have several options."

The argument over whether to retaliate against the Ruscitti and Barassi by undercutting their financial pursuits, by destroying their joint operation utterly, or by simply killing off a few of their highest-level bosses took even longer to hash out. The last of the day's sunlight disappeared as they debated the matter. They called first for sandwiches as the evening fell, and then for coffee when Lambo, the last grudging holdout for blood, finally agreed that destroying the structure of the Ruscitti-Barassi's business partnership would be a suitable memorial for Yamamoto.

Even Irie didn't try to stop them all from roughing in the plans for that once they'd agreed on it, though it was ridiculous to try to plan an operation with as little intelligence as they had and the reconnaissance would take time to execute. Hayato didn't blame him for not pointing that out, not when Tsuna's face was drawn and he was prone to roaming around the table restlessly, like he didn't know what else to do with himself.

Hayato had never thought he'd ever be reminded of Xanxus (of all people) when he looked at the Tenth.

It was closing on ten when Ryouhei set his pen down and said, not unkindly, "Boss. I think this is all we can do without knowing more."

Tsuna stopped, and passed his hand over his face. "...I suppose you're right," he said. He looked at the litter of maps and papers and coffee cups spread across the table. "I want--"

They never did find out what it was he wanted, because the door swung open at that point and Yamamoto came staggering through it, limping, his suit a muddy wreck. As they stared at him, he collapsed into his empty seat and gave them all a tired grin. "Sorry I'm late," he said. "What'd I miss?"

"You son of a bitch," Hayato said, from the very depths of his heart, as ten years came off Tsuna's face and Hibari gave them all a feline sort of smirk, as if to say _I told you so._ "You couldn't have called to say you weren't dead?"

"Um," Yamamoto said. He dug around in a pocket. "Jumping in the canal kind of killed my phone." He produced it to prove the point; it was encrusted with things that were probably better left unidentified. "Sorry."

"Idiot," Hayato said, helplessly. "You made us think you were--"

"Um," Yamamoto said again. At least he had the good grace to look a little ashamed. "Yeah, um. Sorry about that. Kind of thought I was, actually." Then he shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. "Anyway, what are we planning?"

"A whole lot of trouble for the Ruscitti and Barassi," Tsuna said. If he'd been tired and grim just a few minutes ago, now his face was wreathed in smiles. "In your honor."

"Really?" Yamamoto grinned. "I'm touched."

That was too much on top of everything else. "You damn well should be," Hayato said and stood. "If you'll excuse me, Tenth. It's been a long fucking day."

He didn't actually bother with waiting for permission and left anyway, seething without quite knowing the reason why.

And he only wished he could be surprised by the fact that Yamamoto tried to follow after him. "Hey! Gokudera, hey! Wait up!"

A tiny, perverse part of Hayato's soul was tempted to walk faster, but his feet slowed and turned, all without his permission. "What?" he demanded when Yamamoto's limping pace had mostly allowed him to catch up.

Yamamoto peered at him. "Hey, are you okay?"

"I'm just peachy," Hayato snarled at him. "Thanks for asking."

"Right, so you're pissed. Got it." Yamamoto tilted his head. "Um. What'd I do?"

"What did you--you know what, I'm going to kill you myself," Hayato told him, and swung at him.

It was a sign of something that the punch even landed; Yamamoto grunted with its impact and staggered into the wall as he brought a hand up to cover the spot. "Ow," he said, grimacing, and held up his other hand to fend Hayato off. "Okay, you know what, I really would rather not get hit any more today, okay?"

The last vestiges of Hayato's self control snapped. "We thought you were dead!" Hayato yelled. He didn't care that he was doing it in the hallway, or that there were at least three or four people peering at them from around the doorway of the conference room, watching them. "_I_ thought you were dead! I thought I'd left you behind me to get yourself killed, you bastard! And I had to come back and tell the Tenth that that's what I'd done! And I thought I was going to have to walk around the rest of my life knowing that! Why the hell are you so surprised that I'm pissed, you moron?"

Yamamoto blinked at him, still holding his jaw. "One of us had to do it," he said. "And you're Tsuna's right hand, so it was better that it was me. I didn't mind."

"_I_ minded!" Hayato yelled at him. "The rest of us minded!"

"Yeah, I know," Yamamoto said. "I'm sorry that I made you worry." He shrugged and then winced at the movement. "But I'd do it again, if I had to. It was for the Family, you know? Duty, and all that. So I don't mind." He rubbed his chin. "Though I'd rather not come that close again any time soon, of course."

"So would the rest of us," Tsuna said when Hayato could only manage a few sputtering curses at that. He strolled down the hall to join them and looked at Yamamoto, eyes grave. "And it's not really okay, if you die for duty," he added, firm. "You should live for it."

Yamamoto's mouth quirked, faintly wry. "They're the same thing, Boss."

Tsuna's eyebrows drifted up. "Are they?"

"Yeah, kind of," Yamamoto said, which was just further proof, in Hayato's opinion, that Yamamoto was a fucking lunatic. "Sorry?"

Tsuna held his eyes for a long, silent moment, and sighed. "Just don't do it again," he said, drawing Yamamoto's ring out of his pocket. "This is yours. I don't want it back again."

Yamamoto accepted it with a wry little smile and a bob of his head. "Yes, Boss."

Tsuna shook his head. "Get yourself looked at by one of the doctors, and then get a night's sleep. I'll take your report in the morning." He turned away and gestured at the rest of them. "You too," he said. "Call it a night."

Not that anyone dispersed immediately; everyone seemed to have something they wanted to say to Yamamoto as they surrounded him, asking him what had happened (Lambo) and how he'd gotten away (Ryouhei). Hayato fell back from the center of the little knot of them where Yamamoto was grinning and waving a hand around, describing his daring escape, and found that he was standing next to Hibari.

Hibari gave him an oblique look and glanced at Yamamoto. "I would have thought you'd be glad that he isn't dead," he said after a moment.

Hayato scowled at him. "Maybe when I stop being so fucking pissed off."

Hibari glanced at him again and raised an eyebrow. "You might as well be angry with the fish for swimming," he said, which made absolutely no sense at all. Hayato was just tired and frustrated enough to tell him so. It only made Hibari snort. "It's his nature," he said. "That's all."

"It's a stupid nature, then," Hayato told him.

Hibari's mouth quirked. "I think it suits him."

That seemed to be the end of his conversational mood; he stepped away from Hayato. Somehow a look from him silenced Lambo and sent him bouncing away, while Chrome inclined her head and said her goodnights and even Ryouhei finished up what he was saying quickly, till it was just the three of them. "You will need a phone to call one of the doctors," he said, and produced his own phone.

"Hah," Yamamoto said, and took it. "Yeah, thanks."

They exchanged a look that Hayato didn't even want to decipher. Then Hibari nodded, just the barest dip of his chin, and walked away.

Hayato was never going to understand the way they worked, honestly.

"Hey." Yamamoto's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Um. I'm sorry." He offered Hayato a tilted sort of smile. "I really am. I wouldn't have done it if I'd thought it wasn't necessary."

Hayato took a breath, raking his hands through his hair. "Don't make a decision like that for me ever again," he said.

Yamamoto tilted his head, considering that. "That's why you're angry?" he asked, and then added, before Hayato could explain, "Okay, fair enough. Next time I'll ask."

It was just like him to completely miss the point, Hayato thought, and then reconsidered, based on the look in Yamamoto's eye. "It'd be better if you just didn't do it again," he said, making the point as sharp as he could.

"I can try, I guess," Yamamoto told him.

And that, Hayato supposed, was going to have to be enough. "See that you do," he said. They looked at each other. Finally, he added, "I'm glad you're not dead."

Yamamoto laughed, a little short; from the way he moved, Hayato figured that he probably had some bruising on his ribs, or maybe a little worse. "Yeah," he said, "I am, too."

"I bet," Hayato said and motioned at him. "Go on, get yourself patched up already. You're making me hurt just looking at you."

"Ah, this is nothing," Yamamoto told him, but he seemed to be glad enough for the dismissal.

"Crazy bastard," Hayato told him, which earned him another breath of laughter before Yamamoto turned and limped away, flipping Hibari's phone open and dialing as he went. Hayato watched him go, the last of his anger draining out of him at the sight of the tired slope of Yamamoto's shoulders and the lurching gait of his limp. Yamamoto was going to feel that in the morning, which was probably all the punishment Hayato could ask for and then some. So maybe it all balanced out in the end, or all was well that ended well. Or something like that, anyway.

And, as he headed towards his own rooms, Hayato wondered whether Giancarlo Ruscitti and the Barassi would ever realize what a narrow escape they'd had.


End file.
